


The Cross-Boarder Coalition To Get A Werewolf Some Friends

by gala_apples



Series: An Alphabet of Teen Wolf Crossovers [12]
Category: Macdonald Hall - Gordon Korman, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boarding School, Closeted Character, Complicated Relationships, Crossover, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 08:32:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3685389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jackson is demisexual -not that he’d ever admit it- and thinks once you find that person they should mean everything. Even if there’s two people. Even if you’re forced to leave them to go to a boarding school. Even if you can’t tell one that it’s in bullshit Canada. Even if you can’t tell the other why things got so crazy. No matter what the circumstances, you can still love them forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cross-Boarder Coalition To Get A Werewolf Some Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Slight warning- Jackson hasn't quite figured out his sexuality yet, and his internal monologue is a bit of a dick about it.

Danny is the only one who knows the truth. 

Danny is the only one who will _ever_ know the truth, because it’s goddamn pathetic and Danny is the only one allowed to see him that way. 

Well, Danny might tell Lydia. Jackson won’t. Can’t. He tried, truly. He managed to tell her he was moving against his will. But she asked where and he said another country. And she asked where and he couldn’t say anything. And she screamed where and he couldn’t say anything and she walked away.

That rejection made the rest of the summer dwindle away. And now it’s the first day of junior year, not that they call it that here, and Danny isn’t waiting on the sidewalk with a thermos of coffee and Lydia’s not waiting to reapply her lipstick after they kiss and Jackson’s just not sure if he can walk out this door.

It shouldn’t be this hard. He’s already had a day to get his shared room in order. To resign himself to the fact that yes, he’s here. His parents are ashamed of his choices, the choices that public school led him to, and a year in a boarding school is the only thing that will fix him. It’s difficult as hell. Jackson’s already blown off breakfast, unable to force himself out of bed, despite his roommate’s attempt at coaxing. But he needs to go to first period. He has to, or he sinks even deeper into the bad books of his parents.

English class is terrible. It goes the same way that all first English classes go. They pick seats, they get given the course’s rubric on coloured printer paper and they sign their names on the bookplate of well worn copies of their first assigned book. It’s no different, except for how it’s terrible. There’s no Danny or Lydia or random sycophant to sit with, he is alone. The syllabus has more U’s than Jackson’s seen in his life, all nestled up incorrectly behind O’s. He doesn’t even know where to begin about the book. Margaret Atwood is Canadian, apparently, and the teacher has a real boner about that. He uses the word authentic _twice_. The plot of the book is something about how society works after some kind of catastrophe and the amount Jackson doesn’t want to think about life changing events is unfathomably huge. And the theme of the book is the power of women. Feminists are gross.

Second and third period are also noticeably lacking Lydia and Danny. He sees a lot of the same faces, Macdonald Hall has more compulsories than BHHS did, but he doesn’t care. None of them will make him feel warm and comfortable, like Lydia, or appreciated and funny like Danny. Or even sexy and desired, like the both of them. His forced ten months of celibacy isn't quite getting to him yet, but it will. 

Finally it’s lunch time. For the first time since fifth grade Jackson’s going to have to sit alone. He doesn’t know anyone’s name to make it possible to approach.

Turns out it doesn’t matter. Someone approaches him.

“You look bummed.”

The boy that sits across from him has casual bedhead messy hair meant to make him look cool. Jackson feels a sneer rolling out across his face and doesn’t attempt to pull it back. He tried that look. It takes an hour to look like you’ve spent no time at all. Casual his ass. 

“No, really. You look upset. Tell the king what’s up.”

“You really want to know?” Jackson challenges.

“It’s what I’m here for!”

Who the fuck is this guy? When his parents signed him up for this hell hole, Headmaster Sturgeon didn’t say anything about getting a first-day-buddy to show him around. So if this asshole isn’t assigned to him, why the hell is he bothering?

“I haven’t yet figured out how to be satisfied that I was proven right.”

“About?” The boy stretches, tilting his head until his ear is parallel to the cafeteria table.

“Seriously?” Never mind hipster, this kid has the worst characteristics of Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski combined. 

“You drew me in, gave a good pitch. ‘Haven’t yet’, that’s very dramatic of you. Not pissing off until I hear the whole story.”

“And then you’ll go away and go be an annoying spaz somewhere else?”

“That’s King Annoying Spaz, to you. Or Bruno. And I solemnly swear.” The asshole even puts his hand over his heart.

“Every adopted kid wonders how long it’s gonna take to do something they won’t let you come back from. I hit mine, and now I’m here.” Shit though, who would have guessed dying would be the last straw? How was Jackson supposed to plan for that? He covered the normal bases. He got good grades, without straying into nerd territory. He joined a bunch of teams, but only ones in which they had a winning chance, no volleyball or debate. He stayed heterosexual to any outside observer. He did his chores, or at least the ones not covered by the weekly maid service. It’s not fair that he died.

Bruno leans forward, butt off his seat, to punch him in the arm. “Don’t be one of those assholes who doesn’t want to be here.”

“At a boarding school on the edge of endless farm in Canada? You’re kidding, right?”

“If you feel like your parents stuck you here it’s because they did some Googling and realised this is the best fucking school in North America.”

“And with that disturbing show of school spirit, I’m out.”

It’s not like he needs to be here to gorge himself on cafeteria food. He’s not playing a sport, he doesn’t need to carbo-load. Might as well sit in the rec center and watch some tv. Jackson hasn’t actually been inside it yet, but one of the brochures his dad sent away for says it has top of the line equipment, all of it provided by Hank The Tank Carson of the fucking Greenbay Packers. Just because Jackson’s the star of the lacrosse team doesn’t mean he doesn’t know NFL. He knows it’s impressive that a man of that calibre cares about Macdonald Hall. Equally so that Jordie friggin’ Jones, movie star on par with Brad Pitt and Daniel Radcliffe, filmed a movie here. He just doesn’t care about the school’s credentials. It’s a shitbox, and all Jackson wants is to get away from all the happy idiots in the cafeteria and watch an episode of Hell’s Kitchen on the 3D television.

Jackson makes it through afternoon classes, then into his room without being harassed again. The second his door is closed he opens his laptop to Skype Danny. Three exactly in Ontario means it’s noon at home. Danny will be in the back of the library, or in the weight room. Somewhere he can eat lunch and talk without being bothered.

Jackson recognises Danny’s background immediately. He’s in Lydia’s car. Jackson can only think of one reason why. They’re still together. Somehow, even though she’s straight and he’s gay, they’re together. It’s downright weird. He thought he was the lynchpin, the point in their V.

That knowledge, that he’s being left out, breaks him a little. Even as Danny is cheerfully greeting him Jackson says, “I can’t do this. There’s no hierarchy and they spell everything wrong and I’m going to fail history. I can’t do this Danny.”

Danny makes an aborted hand gesture, like he went to try to pat Jackson’s back. Too fucking bad that they’re separated forever. “Your mom’s term is temporary. You’ll be home for senior year.”

“Yeah, but I have to be here now!”

“Come on Jackson. You’re an athlete. Break down the issues into strategies. Bet you can find a history tutor. Or it’s not like you need to get any of it in your long term memory. Cram and forget. And just download Open Office and set your settings to Canadian English, and the spellcheck will fix your words for you. What was the other thing? What about a hierarchy?”

"This insane asshole and his friends are in charge."

"That doesn't sound any different than here. Especially if they're on a sports team. Are they?"

"Hockey and football and swimming and rugby from what I can tell.” The rec room had a wide shelving unit for trophies.

"So then what's the problem if the jocks are on top?"

"It's- There's a professional eater and a graphic design guy and a guy who's literally broken every bone in his body." Jocks on top Jackson understands. Or even geniuses, or drama students, depending on the type of magnet school. But Macdonald Hall’s elite are fuckin’ weirdos.

"All two hundred and six?"

"You think I'm joking, but I'm not. I know what literally means."

"So sign his next cast. You can do this. You can get popular. Make friends with one and the rest will accept you."

They talk for a while longer, then Danny needs to go to class. Jackson doesn’t want to hang up, but he doesn’t exactly have a choice. He closes his laptop completely and reclines on his bed to think about Danny’s advice.

Bruno's the weak link. He's the apex of the school. Jackson might call him the alpha male except he’s not an Alpha, and the word only has one meaning these days. None the less, he’s the top. But somehow he's also the guy who cares about what's happening around him. That includes the well-being of the new kids. Or at least it did this morning. He might as well see if Bruno's still willing to listen to a story or two. Jackson knows he has a few that properly portray him as a hot piece of shit, the perfect guy to have on your team.

He’s still laying back with a machine on his stomach when Darryl comes in. Jackson doesn’t do him the courtesy of sitting up, but he does twist a little to look at him. "You know Bruno and Boots?"

"Who doesn't?"

Exactly why this is necessary. He's not spending a whole year being a guy that people don't know the name of. "What room are they?"

“306."

"Great." See, now that’s something worthy of putting his laptop to the side and standing up.

"But, I mean... they're not going to be there?"

"Where then?"

Darryl shrugs. "Dude I don't know. Four to six is detention time. Dishes, leaves, sweeping, collecting ants. They could be anywhere on campus, depending on what they did wrong this time."

"Collecting ants?" Jackson raises an eyebrow.

"Sometimes The Fish likes making tailored punishments. It made sense at the time. Anyway, it's detention time, and since first year Bruno and Boots have basically never not had detention."

"Basically or never?"

"Look man, I don't think you get how this place works."

Jackson rolls his eyes and leaves. The only thing he needs to know is how to get on top of the hierarchy. Bruno and Boots can get him there. If they're not in he can ask closer neighbours. But they probably are. Greenberg had a detention almost every day and he blew off at least half for lacrosse practice. No one ever really seemed to notice. If the two kings’ DTs are mostly outside who's going to notice if they sneak in?

They're in. More specifically they're in each other. Jackson can't tell position, if it’s riding or male missionary; there's a sheet slung over Bruno's back and shoulders, and he can barely see Boots underneath him. But there's only a few reasons for two guys to be under the sheets like that, and blanket fort is not one of them. 

"Shit, sorry." Jackson doesn't apologise often but being a cock block is something that truly deserves it. "I'll come back later."

He backs out and closes the door. Halfway down the hall there's a vice grip on his shoulder. "Yeah, you want something?"

"You're coming to our room."

"Not into it." Jackson is straight with a Danny exception. Bruno and Boots aren’t half as hot as Danny is. Just because Lydia is going to move on and get a boyfriend and Danny is going to move on and get a boyfriend doesn’t mean that Jackson is going to move on and get a boyfriend.

"Consider it a tete-a-tete for how we're gonna deal with this."

Jackson could wrench out of Bruno's grip. He's a werewolf, he could break the guy's hand. But he goes because he's beginning to have an idea about what the asshole's problem is.

For all that Bruno looks like he dressed in a whirlwind, it’s Boots that looks truly disheveled. He looks like Lydia did in the days after Stilinski and the Sheriff found her in the woods; like everything’s falling apart and he doesn’t even know what pieces he’s dropped but he’s damn well going to pick up as many as he can.

"I don't care that you're gay. I don’t care if anyone’s gay."

In sixth grade Jackson was in a different class than Danny. He had Mrs Roper, Danny had Mrs Jeter. In sixth grade Danny told him before school so Jackson would have all day to not be able to talk to him so the news could sink in. Then in their after school program they were playing dodgeball and Jackson beaned every single player in the face -even those on his team- because the care worker wasn’t paying attention, and shouted that Danny was gay and if anyone ever used any word _except_ gay they’d get a lot worse than a soft springy ball to the forehead. Danny was pretty pissed he’d outed him, but only a few people crossed that line once word got out, and Jackson considers it a success to this day.

"Yeah, most people here wouldn't," Bruno says confidently. Boots doesn't look a quarter as certain.

"So then why are you acting like it'll be a disaster if I outed you?"

"Because it would be. We’ve been in this room, together, since we were twelve. There’s no way we’d be allowed to stay together if we were outed. What kind of place would Macdonald Hall be if Bruno and Boots weren’t in 306? Don’t screw up our senior year."

“I won’t tell.”

Jackson’s not in the closet. He’s not gay, so he’s not in the closet. Shit, he’s not even bi. He loves Lydia and Danny will be his bro forever, and they rule the school, so why not fuck? But polyamory isn’t something his parents would want to hear about, and it isn’t something that his classmates would understand, so the Danny part stays under wraps. Besides, Danny gets off on the idea of people thinking he’s a hot slut. It’s part of what makes their threesome work, that Lydia aesthetically appreciates Danny’s rocking bod. They stay quiet about the Janny, Danny gets to third base with randoms, the Jydia gets into the yearbook - everyone’s happy. So yeah, he gets why Bruno and Boots don’t want him to say shit. Sucks about their alliteration though, no portmanteau for them.

“This isn’t me blackmailing you. Because I won’t tell, flat out. But if you do want to repay me, let me join you and your dumb friends.”

Boots frowns. “Uh, why? I mean, we kinda like to be friends with people who like us. And you told Bruno off at lunch. More than once, from the way he tells it.”

Bruno shrugs at his boyfriend. “He can’t be worse than Edward and we see that jerk all the time.”

Jackson decides it’s time for some clarification. He can trade honesty for honesty. Danny’d be proud of him, his bro being far less ruthless than he or Lydia are. “I don’t actually need to be your friend. But you’re the top group and I need to be in it.”

“You could join the graduation committee?”

“Seriously?” It’s not like he won’t. If that’s the way to get on the top of the hierarchy Jackson will put up streamers and discuss tablecloth colours. But really, that’s the best thing Bruno can think of?

Boot shakes his head. “He doesn’t mean what you think he means. He says committee the way most people say _movement_ or _guerrilla warfare_. A few of our previously run committees got us in the book of world records, got a professional football player to believe seven hundred students loved fried zucchini for long enough that he built us a rec centre, and convinced the administration for a whole week that an imaginary student went here.”

“Ah, good old Gavin Gunhold,” Bruno says with a nostalgic smile.

“And I can’t even count the amount of times we’ve been on the news, had the police called on us, or been shot at by the lunatic next door. I have no idea what he’s planning for graduation, but it’ll be intense.”

Bruno’s grinning even harder now. “I don’t even know yet. I go where my ideas take me.”

On one hand, Jackson can see now that Darryl wasn’t kidding. They really must get detention all the time. On the other hand, Jackson let a werewolf bite him to get a leg above the plebs. A detention isn’t much in comparison. “I want in.”

“Okay then. One of us will let you know when the next committee meeting is.”

Jackson takes that as his cue to get the hell out. They probably need to have comforting nearly-got-caught sex. Jackson would give his scalp for some sex with Danny, or with an inexplicably un-angry Lydia. Especially considering that he’s a werewolf now and could probably grow it back. But he’s not going to get that, because he fucked everything up and terrified his parents into exiling him. The best he can do is text Danny about his bro giving good advice, and hope Danny will text back rather than use the five minutes between periods to hit on some guy or talk to Lydia. The best he can do is hope he won’t be forgotten.


End file.
